


Pain and Sleep

by WhereverMySITakesMe



Series: We're All Getting Older, Wishing We Were Young [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, Hurt Roy Mustang, Insomnia, Post Lust Fight, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 09:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereverMySITakesMe/pseuds/WhereverMySITakesMe
Summary: Mustang can sleep anywhere. Except for beds.
Series: We're All Getting Older, Wishing We Were Young [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167959
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Pain and Sleep

Mustang could sleep anywhere. At his desk, under his desk, on trains or store room floors. It was a side effect of the years he’d spent in Ishvall, sleeping on a cot at strange times in the desert heat. Sleep through that and you could sleep through anything. But he tried not to think about it like that, instead making it a point of pride that anything he could sit or lie on, he could sleep on.

Except for beds.

They just felt **wrong**. Too comfortable, too unfamiliar. At home he slept on a sofa because he couldn’t relax unless he was in the main room, facing the door, with his gloves within arms reach. It was simply a matter of safety. And e only slept at work when he was too tired to see straight. Even then it was only naps in a building crawling with soldiers, including his own squad. He was safe there.

But h ere, in a hospital bed, attached to an IV and without his gloves,  he was anything but . Sure there was a guard- Fuery, to be specific, who’d volunteered  to take the night shift- but the kid could  barely see into the hallway, if anything happened,  he’d have little time to prepare and two invalids to guard and-

Anyway, Havoc snored.  No one would be able to sleep listening to that racket.

Mustang  sighed and  shifted awkwardly in his bed. He couldn’t even toss and turn properly-  h is wounds were too painful for him to lie on his front o r left side. Really, they were too painful to  move around too much, a fact he rediscovered whenever he got too twitchy to lie still.

“Colonel?” Fuery was suddenly next to him, speaking a whisper.

The sudden noise made Mustang tense instinctively,  prompting a new flare of pain from his side. He had to grit his teeth against it as he hissed “Yes?” 

“Are you alright? You should sleep”

“I’m fine. Just can’t get comfortable.”

“Do you need more painkillers?”

“No.” Mustang said quickly. They’d given him heavy duty painkillers when he’d first been admitted to the hospital and he’d **hated** it. Hated the way they his brain slow and foggy. He couldn’t put up with that. It was important to keep his mind sharp. Always.

Plus he could handle the pain  alright .  It was the pure wrongness of the situation that set his teeth on edge  and made sleep impossible .

Then an idea hit him. “Fuery?” 

“Yes, sir.” They were both still whispering to avoid disturbing the snoring Second Lieutenant.

“Can you go outside? I can’t sleep with you watching me.” There was only one entrance to the side room so arguably Fuery would be better placed outside anyway. Better line of sight.

Fuery took a second to consider the request before nodding. “ Okay . Shout if you need me,  sir. ”

“I will.”

Mustang listened to the sound of Fuery’s footsteps  moving away and the door opening and closing. He gave it another minute or so before slowly, carefully  sitting up, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and  getting to his feet.  Even with his caution  he pain was blinding and he  was forced to grit his teeth again to keep from crying out  and alerting Fuery .  Breathe, he reminded himself, just breathe.

After several long seconds the pain ebbed a little, enough that Mustang trusted himself to walk without screaming or collapsing. He kept one hand protectively cradling his injured side and used the other to carry his IV stand as he gingerly closed the distance between himself and the door.

L owering himself to the ground was even more painful then getting out of bed  had been, so bad that he fell the last few inches, his arms and legs refusing to cooperate.  He lay deadly still, panting and soaked with sweat from his exertion, waiting to see whether Fuery had heard him hit the ground.

Several second passed without a response from the young sergeant and Mustang eventually relaxed. Now that the pain was starting to ebb he was glad to have made the move. He was much more comfortable here than he had been in the bed- he still had no line of sight, but at least he could  **hear** through the door. And the grating wrongness was gone. He slid his right arm under his head and settled in for a few hours of sleep.

***

Mustang was woken  abruptly  by sudden bright lights shining on his face  and a s soon as he  came too the pain hit.  Every muscle in his body was stiff and screaming. He could barely breathe without aggravating his body even further. Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes.

He took another breath, slower and shallower and tried to blink away the spots. As his eyes focused a familiar face came into focus. Hawkeye was staring down at him, her expression  judgemental.

“Colonel, would you care to explain what on earth you are doing?”


End file.
